


Hidden Thread

by ThePause



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 06:17:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20755712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePause/pseuds/ThePause
Summary: Set during "Pregnancy Test" after Patrick suggests he and David lock up the box of their pasts, at least for the night.





	Hidden Thread

It’s still night, still dark, but David is awake. As soon as he opens his eyes, Patrick is there, a breath away, sleeping on his side, facing David, hands tucked under his pillow, lips parted in a dreamy expression. David still can’t believe he’s here, next to this man, in Stevie’s bed of all places. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt so relaxed, so at peace. David’s mind is normally a spinning carousel of other people’s expectations and his own self-doubt and the need to keep everything under control. The tickertape of his past, like a mental 24-hour news crawl, sending him a constant stream of each face, each mistake, each regret. But being here with Patrick, in the sleepy pre-dawn hours, quiets the noise, blurs the faces. Being here with Patrick eases the panic that hums right beneath David’s skin.

Stevie’s offer to let David and Patrick spend the night together at her place had been a shock at first, but quickly turned to giddy excitement. He and Patrick had grinned at each other across the store the rest of the day, both of them anticipating being finally, blissfully alone.

“I’ll pick you up at seven?” Patrick said as they locked up for the night. The smile on his face was mischievous, a dare.

“Seven,” David said, a swoop in his stomach, eyes closed, head tossed back in a tense but happy smirk.

When David packed his bag at the motel, carefully selecting what skin care products to bring and which sleep wear would set the right tone, he envisioned a night filled with soft kisses and conversation, nothing more. He was fully prepared to honor Patrick’s request to take things slow, even though David wanted so much more. Not in a hurried or selfish way. He just wanted everything with Patrick, wanted it all. But he’d wait, was willing to wait. He knew, even though it was all so fresh and unknown, that he’d wait for Patrick as long as it took. 

It surprised him, the want. The whole thing with Patrick had snuck up on him when he wasn’t looking, while he was stocking shelves and figuring out a point-of-sale system. When he’d slept over at Stevie’s and she’d said he was flustered about Patrick, she’d been right. He was. But not because he thought there was a potential. Patrick was a button-down tucked into belted jeans and grant money and a self-assuredness that David admired but was also a little afraid of, if he was honest. David dated people on the edge, people desperate to get something from him, people he was desperate to get something from. Patrick wasn’t desperate, didn’t need anything from David, didn’t treat him like property or a plaything. Patrick was his own person, his business partner. Patrick was his friend.

Then, suddenly, Patrick was beaming at him from across the booth at the café and giving him a framed receipt from their first sale at the store. David’s heart had swelled in his chest at the gesture. Everything David didn’t know he wanted had fallen into place without him knowing it. There he was, Patrick, ready and willing to be something more. Then David kissed Patrick in the car in front of the motel and something warm and bright lit up inside of him. Inside of them both.

When Patrick picked him up to go to Stevie’s, David thought the night might take a different turn than he’d originally planned. Patrick was anxious on the drive over, fidgety and nervous. He’d drummed the steering wheel and made numerous (and obvious) sneaky glances at David, his lips, his hands, his body. David wondered if perhaps they’d go further than soft kisses and conversation. Thought maybe they’d explore, but only a little. David had no intention of doing anything that would make Patrick uncomfortable. He knew he’d probably have to take control of the night, be the guide, show Patrick the way. He’d been ready for that. Ready to take charge.

Then Jake had shown up, had kissed David on the mouth, had talked about he and Stevie and David breaking up, as a group. David felt Patrick’s pause, had seen the look on his face that was mostly confusion with a hint of hesitation. David thought he could kiss it away, but Patrick needed words, assurances, needed to know David was all the way in, not just half-way.

And he was. He was so in. He’d already plunged into the deep end of it, happy to drown in Patrick’s hands on his thighs, his teasing smile, his wide-open heart.

What David hadn’t expected, what surprised him the most, was what happened after they’d agreed to lock up the box of their pasts and focus on the moment, on each other, on the opportunity of the night. Because it was Patrick who took the lead, Patrick who set the pace. David quickly figured out that when Patrick said he wanted to take things slow, he’d meant an entire night of taking his time worshipping David’s body. Patrick had gone slow, yes. He’d mapped David’s skin with his lips and tongue and fingertips, learning every surface, every curve. Patrick reveled in it, in David, took his time drawing David out of his protective shell until they were both laid bare, together, under the bright light of their inextinguishable smiles.

David was used to people using his body, skin on skin, heaping praise on him in order to get what they wanted. He was used to the warmth of a temporary embrace that quickly cooled, leaving him alone and lonely. Leaving him a little bit scarred. With Patrick, the praises whispered across David’s skin weren’t a means to an end, they were a gift. A declaration. Patrick showered him with awe, telling David over and over how incredible he was, spoke into him how good David felt, how he couldn’t believe he got to touch David and kiss him and hold him close. It made David feel raw, like an exposed nerve. He wasn’t sure how to respond, how to allow himself to be taken so entirely, so sweetly and with so much reverence. He closed his eyes and held on, willing himself to stay present, to let it happen, to be open. He made the choice to say yes, over and over.

It wasn’t all sweetness. There were frantic moments, too, chasing heat together, whispering _more, please, yes_. Riding it out together, hands clasped, eyes open, coming together and coming apart. But after, when they were spent, Patrick’s embrace didn’t cool. He’d stayed close, the urgency still there, the praises still heavy on his lips. It was clear Patrick was there to experience pleasure _with_ David, not because of David.

The whole night was one long intro to a song David had never heard before. It was as if Patrick had discovered a hidden thread in David’s wounded heart and pulled, spinning him around and around, slowly unraveling years of heartache and heartbreak. It was overwhelming, too much. Tears pricked at David’s eyes as he dipped his head to snuggle into Patrick’s shoulder, kiss his neck, let himself be enveloped in Patrick, Patrick, Patrick.

That’s how they’d fallen asleep, wrapped up in each other, unwilling to let go, even in sleep.

Shaking the memories of the night free, David moves to get out of the bed, nature calling. On his way back from the bathroom, Patrick’s voice calls out to him from the dark. 

“Stop right there.”

David stops, standing in a beam of moonlight shining through the window, illuminating his mussed hair and sleepy eyes, his body, naked but for his black boxer briefs.

“What’s wrong?” David says, worried.

“I just want to look at you.” Patrick’s voice quiets to a whisper. “Stunning. You are so incredibly beautiful, David. I still can’t believe I get to see you like this.”

David squeezes his hands into fists at his sides and looks up and away. He’s been told he’s beautiful before, many times, hundreds of times. But Patrick’s words, the choked emotion in his voice, cracks something open inside David’s chest. A warmth spreads through his center and out to his arms and legs, down to his fingers and toes. After everything they’ve shared over the last few hours, it’s this declaration that unspools him, leaving him breathless and desperate. Aching.

“Patrick,” he says, a plea, a prayer.

“Come here,” Patrick says. 

David climbs into bed, into Patrick’s waiting embrace, into a place so new that already feels like home. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm @imthepause on tumblr and hope to be writing more fic for SC...


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